May 23, 2008

Here’s the scoop. We were due to get a shit load of rain Friday and Friday night, followed by 2 days of 20 knot winds from the northeast. This would build up some substantial seas so it would take another day or two before they settled so we could head north from here. Unless we left today.

The day broke gray and overcast with virtually no breeze. There were scattered squalls in the forecast but no wind and FAC (Flat Ass Calm) seas. The big allure for heading offshore from here is that we could avoid the ICW in Georgia, which is terribly winding. If we went outside it would be a journey of 122 miles, while if we stayed inside it would be 180 miles. You can stare at the compass all day and you’re either going east or west, it’s a real mystery as to how you get north at all.

180 miles is a long 3 day or an easy 4 day trip. Theres also the threat of the legendary Georgia green head flies. It’s not unusual to hear buddy boats competing with each other as to their kill totals. Last year we killed hundreds of the little bastards a day.

So we headed out towards the Saint Mary’s Inlet. As we were headed south to the inlet we ran into the Heart’s Desires headed north to Cumberland Island for the first time. It’s an awesome place that I think everyone should see.

Anyway, once out the inlet we found ourselves totally alone. Nobody, nothing, no where. Not even the fishermen were heading out. I was a little freaked out thinking “what do they know that I don’t know, had the weather changed, etc?” We turned north, shut off the engine and found ourselves ghosting along at 1.7 knots. After an hour or so a small squall came through bringing rain and a bit of breeze. For the next 3 hours we averaged between 3 and 5 knots in steady rain. Looking at the bright side, the rain washed the boat off.

After that little burst of speed the wind completely died forcing us to drop the sails and start the engine. As expected we spent the next 8 hours motoring across as flat an ocean as we’ve ever seen. I was disappointed that we couldn’t sail but took comfort in the fact that if we had stayed inside we would have been killing flies, dodging shallows, dealing with bridges and other boaters and motoring anyway, for days.








I took a nap for an hour in the late afternoon while Christy kept watch. When dusk fell the wind started to build again, reaching 6 knots straight over the stern. I rolled out as much of the genoa as the wind could support and Christy went below to catch some sleep. We were moving along at three knots until 0100 when it was time to wake Christy. When she got up we sailed for another half hour so she could experience a pod of dolphins that had been swimming alongside for close to 2 hours.

After that it was time to drop the sail as the wind once again died and we motored off into the night. When we got up near Savannah we had to cross a practically non-stop procession of ships heading into and out of the port. There were even freighters anchored out waiting their turn, which we had to sneak past. It was like trying to cross the turnpike on a tricycle.

We had one behemoth, the Maersk Danbury, come across our bow. We could see by his course and speed that he was going to cross our bow at better than 3 miles away. Then he made a subtle course change of only 10 degrees towards us that would put him within a quarter mile of us. We would have never seen this change if it weren’t for the AIS.

We called him by name and he was forced to respond to us and after assuring us he would be maintaining his present heading we turned 40 degrees to port. That put us crossing his stern within a mile. I’m not sure if everyone has been able to read between the lines, we love the AIS.

Now we’re both in the cockpit, each in our reclining seats. We have the egg timer going off every 20 minutes in case we both should fall asleep. I’m on watch albeit in a state of suspended animation while Christy, who, unknown to me was dozing. Suddenly she bolted upright and exclaimed “Honey!” Instantly I went from my lizard-like state of relaxed awareness to Defcon 4. I jumped up, checked the radar, the GPS, engine temperature, looked all around, checked my pulse. Jesus Christ, she’d just been sleeping and awoke with a start and scared the living shit outta me. Okay, we’re awake now.

We arrived at the Port Royal sea buoy at 0530. It was still dark but things went well as this is a deep, well marked inlet. The reason we got there so early was that even though we were at the sea buoy we were still 10 miles offshore. By the time we had some daylight we were finally within sight of land.

After another 2 1/2 hours we were anchored just off the Beaufort City Marina. When dawn broke, the day had been less than inspiring as it was cold, with wind building from the north, gray and threatening. I went forward to drop the anchor wearing a sweatshirt and by the time we were done the sun had broken through and unveiled a beautiful day.

It looks as if it worked out very well for us. We’ll get the big north wind here but we’re north of the rain. Beaufort is a lovely little town and it turns out that this weekend is the Gullah Festival. I don’t know what the hell that is, but I’m sure we’ll find out over the next few days.